PART ONE
My trip starts with a guru on the plane feeling my energy. “are you ok?” he inquires. He feels my energy and explains there is something I just need to let go of. He also asked if I have come to India to ‘find’ myself. I cringed inside and said firmly “no, I haven’t.”
January 20th 2011, I arrive in India, forgetting how noisy the place is; the sensory overload begins in Delhi and a process of learning to spend time alone has begun.
After two days of meandering through dusty streets and fighting with chaos I arrive at New Delhi train station to start my journey to Bodhgaya.
I find my sleeper carriage, with some help. A line of young men stretching half the length of the train has formed. I’m told it’s marriage season. February is a very auspicious time to get married, so they’ll all be heading back to their villages to find a bride. The queue is to get a place in the general class part of the train. I’m told fight often break out in the scram to board the train.
On the train I read about ‘dowry deaths’ in low income families. Girls are considered a big financial liability. And in the urban middle classes bride burning occurs – women doused in petrol and set alight if they are unable to have children.
20 hours later I arrive in Gaya. A rickshaw takes me to Bodhgaya. It’s dusty, dirty, and yet another sensory overload.
My guesthouse was in one of the villages – there were children, chickens, goats, puppies, cows all running free- it really was delightful colourful chaos. I searched out the Bodhi tree and met the friendly monk who had helped me find my guest house. He
didn’t speak English but did do sportswear monk style – and wore a very cool orange Adidas track top whilst wearing his orange robes. We drank chai together, then I followed him to the Mahabodhi temple to meditate while he chanted. I was surprised at how few westerners, but I was also overwhelmed by the suffering and poverty so abundant. Bihar is India’s poorest state and I was told people travel the Bodhgaya from all over Bihar to beg.
The day arrives for the Christopher Titmus Insight meditation at the Thai monastery. Bring it on.
I am issued with my plate and cup for the next ten days. Silence is now in force. I’m very happy to be in this quiet space I am sharing with 35 other people all living, working, practicing together in silence. Early on I notice a distinct lack of ritual. Lots of reverence to the dharma but no bows to the shrine, no chanting, offerings to the Buddha. I wasn’t sure how I felt about this and it was a complete contrast to the emphatic acts of reverence I experienced around the Mahabodhi temple , most notably the 108 prostrations.
I was expecting a tortuous ten days of sitting – which it was, but also a very nurturing experience. The silence was bliss. It was wonderful to watch the awareness rising, the flowers in the garden would look more and more radiant as the days passed. I’d capture moments of joy before they float away to be replaced by something else.
5th February. My 33rd birthday. At 5.30 the bell is rung. A fellow yogi beats a singing bowl whilst parading through the grounds if the monastery. The day has begun it’s day 9 of the vipassana. The sound of the bell softens – the bell ringer is has now reached the mens dorm or ‘cave’ as it is affectionately refered to. It’s the basement of the temple. It doesn’t quite glitter and glisten like the exterior. Although it does come with it’s very own pee bucket located outside their hatch. Back in my dorm I share with 3 other girls there was a fourth but she left on day 7. The bell returns as the bell ringer has finished his circuit around the monastery. I slide out of bed, grab my blanket and head for the 545 am yoga session.
The day is split between sitting, teachings, walking meditations. Finishing at 930 pm with a hot drink before bed.
Every two days there is opportunity to report in during the group sessions. Reports of ‘resting in equanimity’ and ‘dancing hearts’ start flowing, along with deep rooted psychological obstructions.
During a walking meditation I walk down the track towards the gate – catch a glimpse of the world outside – a scary place! Anxiety about leaving the retreat is arising.
A sangha is created in the beautiful glittering and glistening Thai Monastery. We live together as a community, chop vegetables, clean toilets, empty the mens pee bucket and ring bells together, in silence.
On the tenth day, the silence is broken during breakfast. While our hearts are wide open we are introduced to some local projects. I was particularly inspired by Sister Mary and the ‘Forum for Women’s awakening’ project. Their aims being to campaign for gender equality and facilitate economic self-reliance through micro-credit loans, promote organic farming, provide cost-effective and eco-friendly energy sources and support education for dalit girls. Bihar is India’s poorest state. 44.3% live below the poverty line. That’s estimated at 37 million people. I had a tour of a village by where the micro credit scheme has been running for a while – it was so inspiring to meet some of the women whose lives had been transformed by obtaining a micro loan – which enabled them to buy a goat or to set up a shop in the village or to sell bangles.
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I sat under the bodhi tree and reflected on the vipassana and how I was truly able to cultivate joy and bring love to the ‘i’ that has the desire for liberation. I watched the self who clings slowly dissolve away and watched the road behind fall away, and a path ahead unfold…
Metta Sutta.
Next up.. Varanasi
